


All The Lies I Told my Brother

by Perpetual_Writing_Engine



Category: Danganronpa: A New Era 3.0/ダンガンロンパ：新しい時代3.0, Fanganronpa - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: All hurt no comfort, Anger, Anger and Sadness, Attempts of suicide, Backstory Oriented, Bodily Fluids, Body Horror, Broken Promises, Child Neglect, Childhood Trauma, Completely Angst, Deep Hatred, Gen, Heavily Implied Animal Abuse, Heavily Implied Mental Illness, Heavily Implied Sadism and Insanity, Heavy Internal Conflict, Heavy Relapse, Hidden meanings, Implied Sexual Abuse, In Depth Descriptions, Kind of Like a Diary Entry TBH, Major Substance Abuse, Manipulation, Mostly Sadness, Physical Abuse, Regret, Self Loathing, Seriously read at your own risk, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide, This entire thing is a mess, Total Mental Shutdown, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unrequited Love, drugs and alcohol, first person POV, heavily implied prostitution, heavily implied self harm, heavy denial, major trigger warning, multiple character deaths, self blame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:08:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21874180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perpetual_Writing_Engine/pseuds/Perpetual_Writing_Engine
Summary: When I say this has a very serious trigger warning, I really do mean it! If you will be triggered by any of the tags listed above, I highly advise you NOT to read this work! I have labeled it explicit for that very reason!This story is written in Mikio Suzuki's point of view.
Relationships: Kurō Daichi and Suzuki Mikio(mentioned), Shinozu Shiji/Suzuki Mikio(mentioned), Shinozu Yuuki/Suzuki Takumi(mentioned), Suzuki Mikio and Suzuki Takumi, Suzuki Mikio and Watanabe Riku(mentioned), Suzuki Takumi/Hatakana Aime(mentioned)





	All The Lies I Told my Brother

**Author's Note:**

> When I say this has a very serious trigger warning, I really do mean it! If you will be triggered by any of the tags listed above, I highly advise you NOT to read this work! I have labeled it explicit for that very reason!
> 
> This story is written in Mikio Suzuki's point of view.

**_Lie Number One._ **

_“The trees whisper to you when the wind rustles their leaves.”_

It was one of the first lies I ever told him. That the trees could speak to you as long as they had a breeze through them. For the longest time, he believed it. Then he grew up, was able to catch onto my lies a lot quicker. Time only brought the two of us closer. Once he was thirteen, he started to read me like an open book, and the task of lying to him only continued to get harder and harder for me to keep up with. I found myself wishing that things could go back to the way they had always been, when I didn't have to try so hard to keep everything buried. 

_**Lie Number Two and Three**_.

_“The ocean gets its color from the sky.” “The stars are the shimmering eyes of angels.”_

On a day where I had a mere penny to my name, I took him to the beach, where we wasted away the day until the sky turned orange. He spent the hours in the light swimming and splashing around in the water while I watched patiently from the shore. It was nice, seeing him so happy. I’d do anything for that smile. He did that until the sun went down, and that's when he curled up next to me, covered head to toe in sand.   
The money wasn't rightfully mine, but who was to say my father even deserved it? Leaving a twelve year old child to take care of a ten year old and fend for themselves, what kind of asshole would put his own kids through bullshit like that? Clearly Motsuke Suzuki.   
Even still, we spent the night there on that beach, lulled off by the sound of the waves. My father wouldn't have cared if we didn't come home anyway. While gazing up at the stars, lost in the endless canvas of constellations and shimmering starlight was where I told him the third lie. To give him hope for his future, and to keep me in hopes that he would stay as oblivious as he was. It was the only way I could think to keep him safe at the time. Had someone told me that things would only get worse for the both of us, I never would have believed them. I would have simply laughed, told them that they were wrong and I’d be able to keep Takumi safe his whole life. I’d be able to keep him blissfully ignorant. But I was wrong. 

_**Lie Number Four.** _

_“The grass is always greener on the other side.”_

Not for us, it isn’t. It was the most see-through lie of them all. Even through the thick theatre curtain I tried to hide behind, I knew he was able to see past it all as if it was a sheer curtain made of thin glass. Yet all I could do was continue to build up that wall higher and thicker with each brick representing a new lie to cover everything up, trying to keep up this obvious facade to protect something that should never have been protected. I didn’t even know what the point of that wall was for; to keep him out or to lock me in. Even now I don't know who I was trying to convince, me, or him. It doesn't matter anymore.   
We were standing hand in hand in that meadow. I was nearly seventeen, him three months into fifteen. My cheeks were cold, and the tips of his ears were red from the slight chill of incoming autumn. The sleeves covered up the bruises so he wouldn't have to see. Nobody would question the length of my clothes either, because it only made sense as the days grew shorter and the temperature dropped as each one passed. We had our backs to the wind as it whipped through our hair. I had never liked the length of it. I could never say no to him, so I let him convince me: “Grow it out. You look prettier with it long. I’ll grow mine out too, so you won't be alone!” It was his own little superpower. Whatever he wanted, he always got. No matter how little I had, no matter how many times I said no. I’d always give in to those big magenta eyes of his, caving under the pressure. He always knew he’d win too, with that smug little grin of his. But it was okay. 

_**Lie Number Five.** _

_“There will be something wonderful inside every box you open.”_

For years, he begged me for a kitten. Every evening around dinner time, or when I came home, he would always ask, if not plead. It broke my heart to continue to say no, but I knew that our funds were tight, and there was no way I could sustain both of us, and yet another. Pets are expensive to take care of, and as it was, I was pinching pennies just to get groceries for two nights worth. But I couldn't just leave that kitten in the cardboard box on the side of the road. The poor thing was soaked with rainwater and shivering, mewling for help and attention. Her box was close to falling apart, and she sounded so weak, I was lucky enough to even hear her. Whoever owned her left her all alone, where she had no food or water, nothing to keep her alive. She was left there to die. I remember being on my way home from a particularly long shift at one of my jobs with rain water pouring down my back when I found her. She was just as sad and miserable as I was. So I brought her home in that same box I found her in. From there, she became a gift to the boy who had pleaded for that little furball curled up like a cinnamon bun. He named her Yoru, because her fur reminded him of the night sky. He was so happy, he scooped her right out and dropped the box, crying hysterically as if he had won an award. She fit in the palms of his hands, purring loudly, happy to finally be safe and warm in someone's arms, and more than grateful to be out of the rain. I knew that it would be a task, keeping a roof over our heads, food on the table, and clothes on our back, but in that moment, none of that mattered to me. It didn't matter if I had to work extra hours, do more with my body, even ask for slight raises. As long as he was happy, I was… Happy…? What is the definition of that word anyway? 

_**Lie Number Six.** _

_“I'm alright, don't worry about me.”_

That was the biggest lie I ever told. I didn't even know what “alright,” “okay,” or “fine” even meant. I always pretended like I knew. I put on this plastic mask to hide a face ruined by tears. I don't know who I was trying to fool when I spoke those words. Anyone paying enough attention could tell that I was hiding something. And god it was getting harder and harder to keep up that front, the bruises and the cuts and the scratches getting worse day by day. Sometimes it hurt so much, I struggled to do something as simple as stand up. But it was worth it if it was paying the fucking bills. It was fucking worth it if Takumi was happy, I didn't give a shit about anything else. I wouldn't even think twice about taking an extra hit for 100 more bills. I never liked lying to him. It always made me feel disgusting, more disgusting than I usually felt, but what he never knew never hurt him, I thought. Little white lies never meant a thing. Most of them were to keep him as innocent and pure as I wanted him to, and for the most part, they did just that; kept him frozen in time just as he was. I didn't want him to end up like I did. I wanted him to have a childhood. I didn't want him to grow up too fast, just as I had, as I was forced to. I didn't want him to be anything like me. It was bad as it was that we were nearly identical to one another, and everyone I have met has pointed that out to the both of us.   
Speaking of that everlasting childhood… 

_**Lie Number Seven.** _

_“Rain falls when the clouds begin to cry.”_

They say that crying isn't a sign of weakness. It is a sign that the heart has been too strong for too long. I have kept so many things from my brother, even when we were young, especially when it came to the things I was feeling. I thought I was protecting him. I thought I was doing him something good, sheltering him from the outside world, keeping him from all of the things that would hurt him. I was holding a door closed. I had my back against it and my arms stretched out wide because I knew there were monsters on the other side and they wanted what was left of the little we had left. But all of those monsters I was trying to keep out got through anyway.   
When I was ten and he was eight, and the rain was pouring from dark grey storm clouds. I told him that he should go buy something small to eat with the little amount of cash I had, because he needed something to eat and I didn't want him to go hungry. I never told him I hadn't eaten anything in four days. I never told him where the money had been coming from. I never told him what was going on with our lives at home. I never told him that Mom overdosed on heroin, taking her own life. I never told him what happened to our father after he was dragged out of our old house by the cops. I never told him about all the sacrifices I was forced to make, just so I could give him the life he deserved. I never told him what I was doing to make the money that got us by. I never told him what really happened to his boyfriend. I never told him that his boyfriend’s brother, the one I gave my everything to, was beating the ever living fuck out of me on a basis. I never told him how or why Yurine died. I never told him why I shut everyone out. I never told him that I signed my life away to a fucking death game which we ultimately got stuck in together. There were so many things I never told him. So many things I wish I could have and would have told him. So many things that he never knew about me, and things he deserved to know. But he never got the chance to hear them. And I really fucked up. So when I screamed and I cried and I tried to end it all of those times before, did it mean that my heart had just been too strong for too long? Could it just not take all of that pain anymore? Did it finally have to let all of it go?

 _ **Lie Number Eight**_.

_“I will always be there for you.”_

I never thought this would ever be a lie that I would tell him. I believed this would be the one thing I told him that I would keep as a promise to him forever. That I would never leave him when he needed me most. But as I have been with so many other things in my life, I was wrong. I was so wrong. Because it became very clear to me that I couldn't even be there for myself. I spent so much time drunk off of my own sadness that I couldn't see past myself to give my brother the time of day when he was grieving losses of his own. He really needed me after what happened to Aime, after what happened with Yuuki when we were still in school, and what he was going through as a repercussion. he needed me when he was struggling the most, and yet I failed to be exactly what I needed to be for him. I held that door closed so hard that I didn’t have any arms left for him. So all of that fucking guilt and anger and shame that had been building up inside of me since I was old enough to understand those emotions just continued to boil up and bubble until the bottle exploded and left me with nothing but agony, pain, and regret. Riku’s death was the one thing that finally pushed me over the edge. It was all my fault that it happened to her, and I had no idea how to cope with that. So I turned to anything I could think of in hopes that it would all go away, that I could bring her back and everything would be okay again like it never happened, and yet no matter what I tried, I could do nothing about it. Nothing I did could take me back to then. So I started drinking. And I drank, I drank and I drank until I was emptying my stomach in the trailer bathroom, before turning right back to another bottle of vodka. At least four emptied bottles of tequila, some of gin, and even rum littered the camper floor, me sitting in the middle of it all as my breathing hitched through my disgustingly loud sobbing. And I couldn't stop. I couldn't fucking stop drinking or crying, I was so fucking sick it hurt to breathe, and all of my words were coming out as congested stammers of half-finished sentences. I don't know how many times I passed out, made myself bleed, emptied myself of all of the water and bile in my body until I was as empty as I felt. And for the first time in my life, I wondered if this is how my father felt. If this was how he dealt with anything he may have experienced, things he never told me because he was too drunk to stand. I wondered if that was why he hit Mom. Because he would have preferred her die than have to watch her waste away in the empty shell of a body, a woman and a mother she had once been completely lost inside a brain dead skull. And for once I actually pitied him. Because part of me felt like I finally understood the reason why. And I resented him for it, resented myself for it, because I too had decided to use several bottles of alcohol to wash my pain away. I really do disgust myself. 

_**Lie Number Nine.** _

_“Love will always be forever.”_

Even I wanted to believe this was true. I wanted to believe this more than anything. I wanted to believe that love was forever, that love would be the thing to save me. But love breaks people. It breaks things. It destroys everything it touches. And love was the thing that broke me.   
I never wanted Takumi to ever feel that kind of pain.  
But in the end, I wasn't able to protect him from that. I failed him twice. I couldn't save him from the agony of losing Yuuki, the first boy he ever loved. I couldn't save him from the pain of losing Aime, the girl who instantly won over is affections and soon his love. Both times he ever fell in love, he was the happiest I had ever seen him. And I was forced to watch the world rip that away from him, not once, but twice.   
And it was fucking awful.  
I could never quite explain to you what that feels like. A broken heart. But I know one thing for certain. Don't tell me that it hurts less than a broken bone. Don't tell me that after shutting all of that off for years, to finally open yourself back up again to someone who never loved you to come in and to shatter what was left of the remnants, don't tell me that hurts less than a broken bone.  
I didn't want to feel that anymore. I hated love and everything it stood for. I never wanted to feel it ever again, because of how fucked up it made me feel. So I tried to empty myself so I would feel nothing. I sold my body to random men interested in a hook-up, I drank until I was sick, and drank again until I was so wasted I passed out and remembered nothing in the morning. God only knows what happened to me on those nights. I even tried to throw myself out of the fourth story window of my apartment. I would have done it, so close to tipping over the edge when I stopped. Because I still had one person left in my life I needed to live for.   
Mom killed herself. Yuuki ran away. Shiji wanted nothing more to do with me after he used me up and grew bored of me. Yurine’s chemo failed. I had nothing left. Nothing but one. And that one was my baby brother Takumi. That was all I needed. All I had done in my life was for him. What more of a waste of life would I be if I ended it without giving him the world on a silver platter?  
So I stepped off the railing and back onto the safety of the balcony, where Yoru happily rubbed up against my legs. I collapsed and wept for a long time after that. I was so close to accepting the sweet embrace of Death himself, yet here I was, listening to car horns and sirens fade away into the background, wondering how everyone else could possibly keep going, how the world could keep spinning, even when my own had crashed and shattered. It was the first and only time I ever truly wanted to watch the world burn. I wonder now if that's how Takumi ever felt. If he ever felt truly alone like I did. 

_**Lie Number Ten.** _

_“There is no such thing as a truly evil person.”_

That couldn't be farther from the truth. In all my years of meeting people, in trying to believe there was good in all of them with each passing one that came in and out of my life, there was one undeniable fact that I couldn't continue to ignore. There was nothing good in the two of those people I once associated myself with. Shiji Shinozu, and Otoha Otume. The sickest, most disgustingly sadistic and horrific people I had ever met. And both used me as their puppet, one caused me deep trauma that I would never be able to recover from, and the other caused the death of so many people I loved after I was finally able to feel that emotion again. The two people who took everything away from me. My pride, my dignity, my humanity, my emotions, and even people I tried so hard to protect. There’s no such thing as a truly good person. We all do horrible things. I've done plenty of those. But there is such a thing as a truly evil person. And those truly evil people stripped me of it all. Those were the people I tried to protect Takumi from at all costs. I did everything in my power to keep him safe from those who wanted nothing more than to use him for their own personal pleasures, then dump him like the shit he was to them. Yet the monsters got in anyway. And the monsters did what monsters do best; they played with their food, ripped them limb from limb, and killed. That’s all they ever do. The world always consumes the things it considers beautiful.  
Why did he have to be beautiful?

_**Lie Number Eleven.** _

_“Every story has a happy ending.”_

He was hardly even six years old. Awoken by a nightmare I was able to hear. His screams soon ceased and I held his trembling little body in my own weak arms, and I held on tight, as if letting go would take him away.   
I had never been a story teller. I could never consider myself one, no matter how many scripts or books I read, in hopes that one day, I’d be able to share that little talent in me and do something great with it. But I told him a bedtime story. He fell asleep before I had even finished, yet I felt that I needed to finish telling it anyway. Because it needed to have a happy ending as I promised him it would. I promised him that every story would have a happy ending.   
But Mom’s never had a happy ending.  
My father’s never had a happy ending.  
Yuuki’s never had a happy ending.  
Yurine’s never had a happy ending.  
Shion’s, Hisaki’s, Akira’s, Daichi’s, Riku’s, Keitaro’s, Ichiro’s, Chiho’s, Haya’s, Aime’s, none of theirs ever had a happy ending.

And Takumi’s never did either.

I never should have let go. Because letting go _did_ take him away, just like I always knew it would.

_**Lie Number Twelve.** _

_“I promise, I'll never let anyone hurt you.”_

For so long, I felt nothing. Just nothing. That nothing spread, it spread everywhere in me, this nothing, until I couldn’t feel anything anymore. Like I could touch a burning candle but only feel ice. I did everything, I drank and I drank, and yet nothing worked. I just couldn’t feel anything. I was just floating in this ocean of nothing, and I wondered if this is it, if this is what death is, just out there in the darkness, just darkness and numbness and alone, and I wondered if that’s what Riku felt, and that’s what Daichi felt, and that’s what everyone else felt before it was all over, and it’s just this numb, empty, nothing. What if that’s what it’ll be for all of us when the time comes?   
Then when everything just came crashing down on top of me, a reminder that I was in fact still alive, and the lights came on… There he was, but I couldn’t see him. And yet despite that, I started feeling things again, and I felt shame, and I felt grief, and I felt scared. I felt so fucking scared that I really had lost the only thing I had left. And honestly, I wouldn't be able to tell you what felt better. That thorough fucking shame, guilt, agonizing pain, did it really feel better than that horrible, empty nothing? Was it all worth it? When I was finally able to see just what I was looking at, I heard the cord in my mind snap?  
I was just this dark, empty black hole. And I tried to fill it up, I tried to fill me back up, and I called out for help, and yet I still felt nothing. And then I tried to mourn at the wake and I felt nothing. So I went into a full fucking relapse of everything I had just been through in all of my past years to now, just so I wouldn't have to feel it anymore. 

What I was looking at was the dead body of my brother. Cold and broken, as shattered on the outside as I felt on the inside. And just like that, nothing ever mattered to me anymore.  
For the first time in my life, I truly gave up.   
And that’s when I finally drew the knife across my arms.

**Author's Note:**

> This was based off of a series of pictures I found on Instagram, and was inspired to make a version of my own.  
> As you can tell, this came from the seriously fucked up parts of my mind, and what I can come up with. I didn't really intend to publish it, as it's a HUGE vent writing piece, but it's one of the very few things I was actually able to finish. So yeah, I shall take my leave now.


End file.
